Late … but Heartfelt

June 14, 2006

I have been worn out lately — too many events and activities in the last 2+ weeks. I’m hoping that after Father’s Day life will settle down a bit. So, bad mommy that I am, I am late writing a birthday post for Trevor, who turned 12 yesterday…


I have written several times in the past few months about some of the parenting trials and tribulations we have faced with Trevor this year. It has not been an easy year and while I (logically) realize that this is just a phase that most children go through, I (emotionally) worry that we won’t survive this phase.

When Trevor entered the world on June 12, 1994, it was the most profound thing that had ever happened to me. Trevor was born, but in a way I was born too. I was forced to realize that I was not the center of my own personal universe any more. Things that I scoffed at before suddenly became important — morality, finance, safety, etc. Every decision was examined under a microscope to determine whether it was one that would impact my baby boy favorably or unfavorably.

As a newborn, I didn’t think he would ever let me sleep. I didn’t think there could possibly be a cuter baby anywhere.

At one year old, he was my life preserver, the only thing that kept me going while my world was in ruins from divorce.

At two, he was precocious and chatty, and not a bit shy! His introverted mom had to learn how to talk to people she didn’t know because often he would strike up conversations for her!

At three, he was an handful. I joked that whoever had come up with the phrase “terrible twos” had not yet seen three. (Of course, this was when I had started dating Dan, so he had competition for my affection and I’m sure that contributed to it.)

At four, he was the most adorable, helpful, sweet and caring child I had ever known. Truly, if I could have kept him one age forever, it would have been four. He was so eager to help, to learn, to do pretty much anything. The world was his oyster; I loved his enthusiasm.

At five, he started kindergarten. I cried at his graduation, realizing that it was the first of many milestones marking his growth toward adulthood and independence.

At six, he got a new father when Dan adopted him. He also began learning about God when I got saved and we made church a part of our weekly routine.

At seven, he became a big brother. It touched my heart to see how tender and attentive he was with Sophia (whom he called his little Lump-muffin).

At eight, he started in the magnet program at school and made more friends. His school work became more challenging.

At nine, his sense of humor really started to develop and become his own. He became more interested in drawing, and in reading comic books.

At ten he started playing the saxophone, displaying yet another area in which he had some natural talent.

At eleven, he faced the greatest challenges — attending middle school, dealing with girls, and trying to fit in without doing something that would get him in trouble. It has been a year of pain and growth for him and for us as his parents.

My prayer as he begins this year as a 12-year-old is that he will learn to be in the world without being of the world. That he will have the strength of will and character to hold on to what is right rather than joining in with the kids who will try to get him to do what he knows is wrong. I pray that he will be safe. That he will flourish and grow academically, musically, spiritually and artistically. But most of all, that he will realize just a fraction of how much his dad and I love him — if not now, then some day.


One comment

  1. Julie that was a wonderful synopsis of Trevor’s first 12 years!
    It cracks me up to see that even as a baby, he has that beautifully wicked arch in his eyebrows that I’m sure many grown women envy! I know I do! 🙂

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